Swipe Right on the Alien Warrior

Chapter 1

Vanessa

Pink and red hearts assault my vision the moment I push through The Love Roast's front door. Paper cupids dangle from fishing line, spinning lazily in the heating vent's breeze. My stomach churns at the sight of the "Love is Brewing" banner stretched across the back wall.

"I can't believe Julia put these up the second New Year's was over," I mutter, ducking under a particularly low-hanging cherub to reach the counter where Becca's already started the morning prep.

"At least he didn't make us wear the wings this year," Becca says, measuring beans into the grinder. "Remember last Valentine's when you got yours caught in the espresso machine?"

"Don't remind me." I tie my apron, the red fabric a perfect match for the nauseating decor. "Though I'd take cheap polyester wings over another dating disaster like Jason."

"Oh no, what happened? I thought things were going well?"

"He told me I was 'too intense' when I suggested maybe Instagram influencing wasn't a viable career path." I grab a rag and attack a coffee stain with gusto. "Then he tried to sell me on his cryptocurrency scheme."

Becca winces. "That's what, the third guy in two months?"

"Fourth if you count Coffee Cart Kyle." The stain refuses to budge. "Which I don't, since he ghosted me after I mentioned I actually read books instead of just displaying them on shelves for aesthetic photos."

"There's someone out there for you," Becca insists, her eternal optimism somehow surviving years of witnessing my romantic failures. "You just haven't found him yet."

"At this point, I'm thinking of adopting six cats and calling it a life." The door opens as our first customer arrives. "Maybe I'll start an Instagram account about that instead. 'Single Cat Lady Living Her Best Life.'"

The romance music playing overhead fades as my mind drifts back to two weeks ago, the night before Christmas. The fancy restaurant Jason picked out, the way he'd insisted on ordering wine I couldn't pronounce.

"I just think," he'd said, swirling his glass like he knew what he was doing, "we want different things. You're so... focused on stability."

"You mean I suggested getting a real job instead of betting your savings on NFTs?"

His jaw had tightened. "See? That's exactly what I mean. You're not supportive of my vision."

"Your vision is a pyramid scheme with monkey pictures."

"This is why it's not working." He'd set down his glass, barely touched. "You're too... negative. Too practical. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Probably with my rent money, which actually needs to exist."

He'd sighed, that patronizing sound I'd grown to hate. "I think we should see other people. Someone more aligned with my entrepreneurial spirit."

I'd left him with the bill and spent Christmas Day in my apartment, watching horror movies and eating microwave mac and cheese. New Year's Eve wasn't much better – just me and a bottle of cheap champagne, watching the ball drop alone while my upstairs neighbors had what sounded like the party of the century.

"Earth to Vanessa?" Becca waves her hand in front of my face. "You went somewhere dark just now."

"Just remembering my festive holiday dumping." I straighten the stack of cups with more force than necessary. "Nothing says Merry Christmas like being told you're too practical by a guy who thinks emojis are a sound investment strategy."

"His loss," Becca says, but her sympathetic look makes my chest tight. "Though maybe the universe did you a favor. Imagine being stuck with someone who thinks digital apes are the future of finance."

The door opens again, and Julia breezes in wearing a pink sweater covered in hearts that makes my retinas ache. Her wedding ring catches the light as she claps her hands together.

"Good morning, my favorite love warriors!"

I exchange a look with Becca, who's suddenly very interested in reorganizing the tea sachets.

"I just finished our Valentine's projections," Julia continues, pulling out a tablet. "Last year we doubled our regular daily sales. This year, I'm thinking we can do even better. I've ordered extra cups with the special heart designs, and we're bringing back the Love Potion Latte."

My shoulders tense. "The one with the red food coloring that stained everything it touched?"

"That's the one! People went crazy for it." Julia swipes through her tablet. "Oh, and we'll need you both to work doubles that day. The couples just keep coming in waves."

"Great," I mutter. "Eight extra hours of watching people make googly eyes at each other."

"That's the spirit!" Julia either misses or ignores my sarcasm. "And don't forget to push the Valentine's special - buy one Love Potion Latte, get a heart-shaped cookie half off. Mark's already baking test batches in the kitchen."

"Your husband's really outdoing himself this year," Becca says.

Julia beams. "Oh, you should see what he's planning for our anniversary. Twenty-three years and he still makes every Valentine's Day magical." She sighs dreamily. "Speaking of which, I need to approve the new heart-shaped cup sleeves. Keep up the good work, girls!"

She disappears into her office, leaving behind a trail of floral perfume and romantic optimism that makes my teeth hurt.

"I might need something stronger than coffee to get through this month," I say, slumping against the counter.

"Vodka in the Love Potion Latte?" Becca suggests.

"Don't tempt me."

The morning rush ebbs, leaving behind sticky counters and the lingering scent of burnt milk. I wipe down the espresso machine, my movements sharp and precise.

"You know what? I'm done." I toss the rag into the sanitizer bucket. "No more dates, no more apps, no more well-meaning setups from married friends who think they know what's best for me."

Becca pauses mid-restock. "Come on, V. You don't mean that."

"I absolutely do." My hands move to my hips. "I'm going to focus on me. Maybe finally finish that art course I started last semester. Or learn to make sourdough bread. Something productive that doesn't end with me crying into a pint of ice cream at midnight."

"But-"

"No buts. From now on, it's just me, myself, and my career goals."

"What about love?"

"What about it? The only thing these dating disasters have taught me is that love is seriously overrated." I gesture at the Valentine's decorations. "All this? It's just marketing. And I'm not buying it anymore."